What Happens with the Death of a Fantasy, Lester
by Alfonsina.d
Summary: A conversation during a stakeout leads to a new role for Lester ... lifestyle coach ... all in fun and hope you enjoy. Final segment is now up. Hope you enjoyed. Alf
1. Chapter 1

The Death of a Fantasy

Standard Disclaimers apply.

Special thanks to Cat who planted the seed and who (unwittingly) is shouldering the blame with me if this doesn't go well.

Cheers! Alf

**What Happens with the Death of a Fantasy**

**Details provided by Lester Santos to Alfonsina**

It had been another long week doing mind numbing surveillance for Rangeman and tonight was no exception. This time we were a-six man team in three rigs; just watching an old abandoned warehouse. Bobby and Tank were together, Zip and Zero were partnered and I was with Steph. I was one lucky son of a bitch to get her alone in my vehicle even if all she did was fidget, crack her gum and smell good.

As per usual, we were wired so we could hear each other so none of the conversations were very interesting.

"Les?" Stephanie asked popping her gum.

"Yeah, Steph?" I asked looking at her.

"Do I look fat?"

Shit. How do you answer that and keep your balls attached to your body? Ranger'd been in the wind for three months, she wasn't with Morelli and as far as I could tell she wasn't trolling for any new talent.

"Why do you ask?" I asked hoping this was a safe answer.

"Nothing seems to be fitting right and my time on distractions is going up," she said with a sigh.

"Have you weighed yourself lately?" God I hope I survive this conversation.

"You are beautiful Steph," Zero said. Pussy whipped.

"No matter what he tells you, you're perfect," said Zip. Dickless wonder.

"I like a little cushion for the pushin," said a voice that was clearly Tank's. He was honest but he wasn't in the same vehicle alone with a potentially hormonal woman.

"Oh God. It's true," she said looking at me with pure panic in her eyes. "I'm starting to grow Lula's ass!"

I closed my eyes and really wished I hadn't paid off the guys so I could be alone with her in the truck tonight.

"No, that's not it," said either Zip or Zero.

"I think it's more like J.Lo's ass," said Bobby. "I have a thing for that woman's ass. Man, I could just sink my teeth into it."

"What's the matter with Lula's ass?" growled Tank.

"Nothing."

"Not a thing."

"Damn straight, I like dangerous curves," Tank said sounding more like his mind was with Lula than the warehouse we were supposed to be watching.

"What am I going to do?" Stephanie asked me. "I've got a class re-union before the summer is over and I can't go looking like this! I'm going to have to buy all new clothes. Why did you let me do this to myself, Lester? Why?"

She was blaming me? Hell, I only worked with her about once a week and then it was usually on the range.

"Why are you pinning this on me? I don't buy you doughnuts unless you are PMSing and it is verifiable by more than one source."

It really was a shame that she and Morelli weren't together any more, we could gauge where she was in her cycle by her 'glow' or lack thereof. When she would PMS, he didn't get any and they were both cranky. Ranger never admitted to or denied first hand knowledge of Steph's cycle so he wasn't considered to be a reliable source. Ella was. Ella could tell a difference in the amount of food being eaten in the fridge and how much Coke she had to buy. The emergency trips to the store for Midol or Pamprin were also used to verify onset of PMS.

I was going to die for that last comment and she was going to be the one to kill me slowly. Fuck.

Since I was a dead man anyway, I continued, "You can't PMS for three weeks consecutive unless," I started to say. "Tell me you aren't. Please, tell me you aren't."

"Aren't what?"

"You know," I said with panic in my voice.

"Bun in the oven," said a disembodied voice.

"Expecting the stork," said someone else.

"Special delivery," said the third.

She looked at me shaking her head when Bobby piped up, "Pregnant. You aren't pregnant are you Steph?"

Her body language slumped and she let out a sigh. She shook her head.

"Santos, what's she doing in there?"

"Not quite sure. Hang on," I said. "I'll ask."

I looked her in the face and said, "Steph, honey, is there something you need to say to any of us?"

"Like what? Happy Father's day? Jesus Lester. You should know me better than that. Besides if I was, we'd have a new national holiday celebrating another immaculate conception," she said looking at me like my third head had just sprouted.

"Are you sure? You've been pretty moody lately," I said. "Weeks actually."

"It's nothing," she mumbled.

"Spill. We aren't going anywhere and we've got to be here for another three hours," I said.

"Cool. Gossip?" asked Tank.

Why couldn't Tank just let me handle this? I was doing fine on my own. Sort of.

"No, it isn't gossip. It's pain and disappointment," she said with a sigh and apparently a heavy heart.

"Did someone hurt you?" Zip asked.

"If someone laid a hand on you, we'll kill the SOB," Zero said.

"Great and I'll have to patch him up before EMS gets called. Love you Steph, but I can't be part of a mass beat down unless my alibi is air tight," Bobby said.

"I wish it were that easy," she said.

I looked at her and started to say something when she cut me off.

"Have you ever been so disappointed in something that you just can't seem to let it go?" she asked.

What the hell had Ranger done before he left town this time?

"No, it wasn't Ranger," she said. Hey, her ESP was finally kicking in. "Lula, Mary Lou, Val and I were at Mary Lou's the a couple of weeks ago when Lenny was out. It was kind of a modified hen night. You know, the kids were asleep and we weren't doing anything wild, but we were cruising the internet looking for pictures of hot men."

"Did you see my picture?" Zip asked.

"None of you guys were posted, I looked, but you know how Ranger is. He has Silvio scrub your pictures as soon as someone posts them."

"Go on," Tank said sounding bored.

"Well, we found this really hot, and I mean scorching hot, trainer who was so pretty that Mary Lou and Val actually cried. His muscles had muscles," she said.

"So what are we, chopped liver?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah?" asked Zip.

"It's not that. You are all very macho and sexy. And yes, you all have lots of muscles, but I can't think of any of you that way because I know you," she said.

"Darned tooting we're hot," someone said.

"Anyway because we didn't know him, we were each thinking of all kinds of things we would love to do to him. We were getting pretty descriptive and imaginative. And then it was over," she said simply.

"You find him on a gay porn site or something, Steph?" I asked.

"Worse. Found him on a cleaning commercial that never aired and he did the most awful thing," she said.

"That's worse than seeing him go at it with a guy?" Zero asked.

"Eww. Didn't want that image, but thanks," she said. "No. He talked."

"Talked?" I asked her.

"Talked. Killed the fantasy then and there for all of us. It was over almost as soon as it started. If only the speakers on the computer didn't work, it would have been so much better and we would have all been so much happier," she said.

"So you are eating because some guy you don't even know was on the internet sounding like a bubble head?" I asked.

"Not quite, but close enough. Anyway, I figure I'll never get the perfect combination of male: emotionally available, strong, good looking, and just the right amount of macho."

"I'm on the market," Bobby said.

"Me too!" said Zip.

"Guys, you know that Ranger'd kill any of us who made a move on her while he's gone," Bobby said. Bobby was trying to be the voice of reason and I was hoping to silence him.

"Guys, can we cut the mics for a couple of minutes?" I asked.

Tank said, "Lester, you and Steph have three minutes you can be muted, but that's it. And NO ONE tells Ranger. This goes against every protocol we have."

"Thanks, man," I said. "Tank you are an absolute douche bag." Nothing. Ok, so the mics really were off.

"How do you feel about rewarding good behavior Steph?" I asked lifting the armrest between us and draping my arm around her shoulder. She automatically moved over and snuggled in to get close.

"You mean like giving kids gold stars in grade school for spelling bees and stuff?" she asked.

"Kind of. I was thinking more along the lines of rewarding you if you seriously want to lose some weight. But this is going to have to be done in moderation," I said.

"I'm not so good with moderation," she said with a sigh. "What kind of rewards do you have in mind?"

"Me," I said quietly.

"You? How are you my reward?"

Evidently she doesn't read my live journal on the web, she lives such a sheltered life.

"How about for each pound you lose, I give you a kiss. Anywhere you want, for as long as you want. Sound good?" I asked with a wink. No way in hell she'd say yes to this.

"And if I lose more than that? Cause I need to lose like 14 – 15 pounds. That could be quite a bit of kissing," she said with a blush.

"Ok, at five pounds you get a lunch date with me. At ten pounds a dinner date," I said. She wasn't saying no, good.

"Yeah, but based on these jeans, it's looking like it'll need to be fifteen pounds. That's gonna take a serious reward," she said very quietly.

"Well, if you really want it, I could provide you with a LIO, or several depending on if you enjoy the first," I said. No way in hell was she going to say yes.

"What is an LIO?"

Time to buck up and face it like a man. "LIO is Lester induced orgasm. These come with no guilt, no strings and no regrets. Customer satisfaction guaranteed."

She's gonna find a way to get a hold of Ranger and have my ass pounded so far into the ground it'll take them days to dig it out.

"Guaranteed? I can be a pretty difficult customer," she said.

Oh God, she's going to say yes.

"I'm like Avis. I try harder and longer than the competition."

"Time. Lester we can't give you any more privacy. Did you get everything said you needed to say?"

I looked at the brunette next to me, her eyes were shining with excitement.

"Sign me up, Lester, but be gentle."

Hot damn.

"Gentlemen, Stephanie would like for us all to help her get into shape before the end of summer. Who is willing to help me help her to shed ten pounds?"

"Fifteen," she said quietly.

"I am corrected. Who wants to help Steph to work off fifteen pounds?"

"I'm in."

"Me, too."

"Sure."

"Steph, I think you can say that we are all here for you," Tank said.

"When do we start?" Zip asked.

I looked at Steph. "Tomorrow early enough?" she asked. "I want to give this a very serious effort. Maybe we can do it all in a month or so?"

"Goals are very important," I said to her.

"So is the right motivation, Lester. So is the right motivation," she said with a wink.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I worked in the USO in San Diego in college

Disclaimer: Cat is making me do this. She is holding Vince hostage until she gets her quota of Lester this week. Though I admit that I do like her ideas and think that Lester would be a valuable lifestyle coach.

**Why the Definition of Moderation is Different From Person to Person**

**By Lester Santos as told to Alfonsina**

"Put the box back," I said.

"But, please?" she whined.

"No. You may have ONE. The rest of the box goes back in the cupboard or else I am going to dispose of it for you," I said.

"You wouldn't. Would you?" she asked clearly begging me to tell her I wouldn't destroy that which meant the most to her.

"I thought you were serious. I thought you wanted to make a serious change in your body by the end of summer," I said.

I didn't care if she wanted it, she'd agreed to do it, my way. She'd agreed to my reward structure. It looked like I wasn't going to be able to compete with Hostess HoHos. Shit. She was only on the first hour of the first day of her weight reduction program and already it was looking like I wasn't going to get lucky.

How exactly does Steph losing weight impact my sex life? We have an agreement. She reduces her weight and I get to reward her. First it is with kisses and then some dates and finally some LIOs. LIOs are more for her than for me; you see the Lester Induced Orgasm provides the Amazing Lester Orgasm which is for me. I get lots of those, but they are kind of like Chinese food, you want more soon after you are done.

At least Steph had the ability to look a little ashamed of herself.

I closed the door to the break room and locked it.

"Come here," I said using a voice that wouldn't take no for an answer.

She had her head down and the wrapped pastry in her hand. She took three steps my direction.

"I can make a deal with you. Do you want to start out owing the bank on your rewards?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm willing to let you have a sample of what's on offer if you promise to be good today and surrender your pastries," I said.

"What will I owe the banker?" she asked with a shy smile.

"You'll have to pay it back with interest, at the end of your program," I said.

"I'm not so good with moderation. I thought all I took was a moderate risk to do your regimen," she said.

"Nothing moderate about me. This is going to be extreme starting now. But I promise the rewards and results will be more than worth it," I said.

"I don't know if I can work a full week to lose a pound to wait for the rewards. I am thinking the schedule should be moved up a bit," she said.

"No control?"

"No will power. Never had any when it came to the sweet stuff. I'll probably cheat as soon as you aren't looking," she said.

At least she was being honest.

"How about this: are you able to be good for a whole day? I can make the one pound reward a daily one, provided you are good." I asked. God, I am a genius.

"I might pressure you," she said. "I have a short attention span."

"I'm good under pressure."

"Can we compromise on desserts? You say none at all. Can you provide me with portion control instead?" she asked.

"Meaning how often, Steph?" I asked. She was used to getting her way with Ranger and Morelli but I was a horse of a different color.

"Every two or three days you provide some kind of a dessert? Your discretion? Please?" she begged.

"Dessert is consumed off site and we don't tell anyone about it. Then you have to work off the calories in a manner I deem appropriate?"

"Deal."

"Let's seal the deal," I said. I started to invade her space and backed her against the wall. I began to kiss her slowly and thoroughly. I spoke lowly, slowly and directly into her ear, "Raspberry cheesecake, tomorrow night, in my apartment 8:00. I provide everything you need and there will be no second helping. Oh and you'll be eating off the chest in the living room."

She was hardly breathing and her eyes glazed over, "Cheesecake. I love cheesecake. Not too cold though or the flavor isn't as good."

"Oh, I know Steph. Believe me I know," I said. I was planning on being the chest in the living room. God this was going to be fun. "I'll help you burn off the calories after you are done."

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Cat is making me do this

Disclaimer: Cat is making me do this. She is holding Vince hostage and making is threatening noises about Bobby's safety. Though I admit that I do like her ideas and think that Lester would be a valuable lifestyle coach.

**And So It Begins  
By Lester Santos as told to Alfonsina**

"And so it begins," I said to myself with a sigh as I left the break room. Steph was still standing in the corner looking dazed. I'm good like that, I leave one hell of an impression on the lovelies especially after a kiss that makes all kinds of promises.

I was still in my reverie when I heard a rottweiler in the distance.

"Santos!" barked Tank. Ok, so Tank's not a dog. I've been wrong before.

And so it begins. Shit.

"Yeah, what do you need Tank?" I asked looking at him but not moving any closer.

"My office, now!" he said.

I took my ever loving sweet time and crossed the floor to get to the door of Tank's office. It wasn't going to be pretty; time alone with Tank seldom was. He joined me and slammed the door.

"Remember moderation, Santos?"

Just what I needed, a lecture. Just what had he seen? Worse, what had he heard? Christ. When had he heard it?

"I've just looked over the 'all things in moderation' program you've established for Steph," he said. Oh yeah, kind of forgot I e-mailed that to the guys. "You put her on 500 calories a day consumption and three hours a day at the gym. That's not realistic for her and either she'll snap and hurt one of us or she'll only make one day. Are you trying to kill her or prove to her what an ass you can be?"

What? It was what I did when I needed to loose those extra three pounds after Christmas. I'd done it for years, no problem.

He glared but I refused to cower. I'd seen Tank back in Basic when someone Naired all the hair off of his legs after his first weekend of liberty and I'd seen the fallout; after that I feared nothing.

"She'll never go for this. I won't let you do it to her. Zero was a nutrition major, he needs to be in charge of the food part of the program."

I could respect that, maybe.

"Ella will have to cook. Just because he majored in it doesn't mean that he can cook worth a damn." I'd eaten Zero's food and knew that she'd be heading for McDonalds as soon as she saw all that tofu on her plate.

"I'll give you that point. He'll coordinate the nutrition with Ella. Besides, Ella has been known to do spa food weekends for all of us after the holidays," Tank conceded. We'd never call it that, we'd just call it taking it easy on our digestive systems after over-indulgences.

"You don't think she'll go for three hours in the gym? It won't all be weights or running, I swear," I said.

I knew the sooner she started to see results, the sooner I'd have her eating desert of the chest in the living room. Maybe I'd change it to very small portions of desert, provided daily. Hmm, something to think about.

"I was a personal trainer back in the day," he said puffing up his chest. "I'd like to help Steph on the fitness side of the program."

"No. You want to see her in those teenie-weenie Lycra shorts and itty-bitty-tittie covers she calls a sports bra. Lula will be none too happy when I tell her what you are planning to be up to. I know you, you're gonna have her do floor exercises. You may not actually touch her, but it'll improve your fantasy life for a while," I shot back.

Ok, so I'd been planning for some serious floor work, too. I had been planning on using wrestling moves and not teaching her how to get out of them, just letting her wriggle under me for about half an hour at a time. I didn't need to work on my fantasy life, it was already pretty good. I was just dying to feel her squirm underneath me all hot, and sweaty and panting …

"Santos, I don't want you doing it and you don't want me doing it, so neither of us will. I've taken a vote, Hector is going to do the floor work with Stephanie."

"Hector. Shit, man. You can't be serious. Hector wouldn't know what to do with her on the floor."

"She's not one of your Friday night floosies. This is Stephanie. Back in the day, Hector wanted to be a dancer, so he's got some good exercises to warm up her muscles, strengthen her core and lift her ass. She's seen Hector in wife beaters and running shorts, she said she'd like to look sort of like that but with breasts."

Great. This was seriously going to extend the time it was going to take to get her results. But Hector does have a nice ass, if it were on a woman it would be enough to make a grown man cry.

"Tank you are such an old woman. What am I going to do with her? She's looking to me for leadership, support, strength, encouragement," I said. 'Kissing, touching, stroking, lots and lots of orgasms. He's killing my plan.'

"You can still do all of those things, but at a distance. We all know how you work and we won't let you break her. She's serious about her goal this time and we all want to see her succeed."

I wanted to kick the table. I wanted to put Salt Peter in Tank's food, or send him to Lula so she could get his mind off his pecker for a few minutes. I wanted to get the hell out of here and dip into a honey pot, any honey pot somewhere. Shit. Maybe I was letting my hormones get in the way. Steph is my friend, not a conquest. Right?

"She and I have already talked."

Can this get any more tedious for me? I'm already doubting my libido and my motivations.

"And?"

"And she's gonna move onto the fourth floor while she's doing her program. She doesn't trust herself not to sneak out in the middle of the night for a pastry run and she knows if she stays here Ella will take good care of her."

"Why is she going to be on the fourth floor? Usually she stays on seven," I said.

Ranger wasn't here, but that usually didn't stop her from staying on seven.

"His place is being remodeled. He wants to reconfigure the space and it is easier to do that when he's not around. He laid those plans months ago, timing is coincidental."

This is good. This is very good.

"The only apartment that's free right now is the one next door to you, Santos. Before we let her move in, we're gonna have to put up some soundproofing between your common walls. We don't want all those _strange noises_ in your apartment to keep her from getting her sleep. None of us will survive if she doesn't get adequate sleep."

True. We'd all seen her on less than nine hours and it didn't bode well for any of us, especially not those of us who ran into her early in the day.

"It never bothered Erik when he lived next door," I said.

"Erik slept with hearing protection on after the first week. He just didn't want to embarrass you."

Oh. I didn't realize the honeys were all that loud. Well maybe I did; it was a source of pride after all.

My new next-door neighbor was going to be Stephanie Plum, and I was on an end apartment. God, this was definitely going to be good. Wonder if Tank will help me put some soundproofing on my door, too?

Definitely I could feel small, portion-controlled, sweet things heading my way, just hours away. Ooooooo boy.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I worked in the USO in San Diego in college

Disclaimer: Cat is making me do this. She's got Vince handcrafting Christmas cards and designing special somethings for Valentine's Day unless she sees more…she's a slave driver I tell you.

**But You Already Promised…Please**

**By Lester Santos as told to Alfonsina**

"No way. I'm not doing it. No amount of money in the world Lester," she said. "Besides it isn't even 7:00 am. The birds aren't even awake yet. You are a sadistic pig."

She was fuming. I've never heard her that mad.

"Yes you are," I returned quietly and calmly. I usually didn't pull out the no BS attitude with her, but this needed to be done.

"No way. I'm out of here," she said as she headed toward the door.

"Sorry Sugar, but your stuff is in storage. The only vehicles you have access to all have GPS on them that you can't disengage, AND you promised. You will honor your promises," I shot back. OK, so I was being a hard ass, but it had to be done. "Not to mention you now live next door to me. You aren't getting out of this that easily."

She looked at me like I'd just ripped up her list to Santa Claus. That I'd told her the Tooth Fairy had just gone into early retirement. That I announced the Easter Bunny was no longer delivering chocolate. That I was the most evil man alive.

"Besides, it's a talking scale," I said trying to be reasonable.

"I get why I have to get on it. We need a baseline for all of this, but I'm not getting on the scale naked in your living room."

"Remember my rules?"

"No whining. No sniveling. No cheating. You are in control," she sighed.

"We can bring in a witness if you'd like. I've been told that Ram always wanted to do this kind of a thing," I said.

She was feeling touchy about her weight so to bring someone else in on her humiliation was a low blow and I knew it.

"No. No. It's just fine. We'll keep it between us. No one needs to know but us; I just really don't want to know. Just tell me one thing," she said.

"Stalling?"

"Yeah but then I'll shut up and if I think your reason is credible, I'll get on the damned scale," she said. "Naked."

I don't care how a woman says 'naked', it is my favorite word; next to 'yes' that is.

"Fine. When you get on the scale naked first thing in the morning, it's an honest reading. You can't blame weight gain on clothes, shoes, jewelry or even too much hairspray. I promise I'll turn my back when you drop the robe and I'll turn back around when you tell me you're decent."

"Well, sounds reasonable," she said.

I put the scale in the center of the room, picked up my clipboard and sat in a chair facing the other direction.

"This will stay just between us, right?"

"Sugar, what happens inside these walls stays here. Think of it as your own private Las Vegas."

"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?"

"Close enough. Now drop the robe and get on the scale," I said.

I needed my coffee and was actually dying to get to the measurement part of the program. Bobby was going to take the measurements and I was going to play secretary. Depending on the results, I'd be in the money. I could usually guess a woman's measurements within very reasonable tolerances.

She approached the scale like it was a rattlenake about to strike.

"Eyes closed?"

"Closed. Naked yet?"

"Not yet."

"Get on the scale. If you don't get on it soon, you're gonna have to get on it with that robe from each time from here on out."

"I could do that."

"Not my robe. Cynthia doesn't know I've still got it. Naked now."

"Fine. But will you tell me about Cynthia later?"

"What happens at Lester's, Baby, stays at Lester's."

"I don't need to know."

"Smart girl. Naked yet?"

I've never had to ask a girl to get naked so many times when I wasn't going to get any, at least not today. There is no God. OK, so there is and he's got a sense of humor. He's probably in Mexico somewhere working on his tan.

"Naked, but don't look," she said.

The scale announced a number that wasn't really all that outrageous but she gasped at it anyway.

"Oh God. It's never been that high."

"Put the robe on," I said. "I need to get coffee and I'm getting out of the chair now."

She had the robe on faster than I could've gotten her out of it.

"Give me my keys back," she said.

"No."

"Lester, I'll call Bobby and he'll let me in next door."

"Fine. But you're doing your measurements with Bobby in 10 and it's being done in uniform."

"I can do the uniform."

"The uniform underwear."

"Ass."

Yep. God I love my life.

"You have eight minutes to get back here in your 'uniform' or I'll put you in it myself. No more horsing around, Steph."

I really do love my life some days.

She was back in seven. Damn the luck.

Bobby was at the door right before she got back.

"Doing it by the book, Lester?" he asked.

"Of course. You wouldn't doubt my motives would you?" I asked.

"Never. But since it's Steph and since it isn't part of her personnel requirements here, I'm not going to put the records in the computer. All hand generated, OK? We don't want the guys to snoop."

"Course not," I said.

There was a tentative knock on the door.

"Open."

She had the robe over her undies.

"Morning Bobby," she said quietly.

"You ready to do this, Steph?" Bobby asked.

"Not really, but let's get it over with," she said. "Where do you want me?"

On the couch. In the shower. In my bed. Against the wall. I was going to be ordering one of those Tantra chairs I'd heard so much about, and it should be here in a week. The possibilities were endless.

"Living room is fine. Lester, man, you OK?" Bobby asked.

"Oh yeah."

For forty-five minutes Bobby measured, I wrote and Steph looked like she wanted to crawl under a rock. I will give Bobby some serious credit for creativity; I didn't think the distance between her nipples was something we'd be checking on a regular basis. Genius.

"Guys? How often do we have to do this?" she asked.

"Once a …" Bobby started to say.

"Week, Steph. We are going to do this once a week to chart your progress."

Bobby looked at me, I pointed to the nipple distance. He nodded and said, "Yeah, should be done once a week to make sure you stay on target."

I gave her a pair of old loose shorts and a t-shirt to wear for later in the morning. Then I fed her breakfast and walked her to the gym. I knew she was supposed to work with Hector, but it sure didn't look like Hector. He was dressed like Richard Simmons. You know with the very short shorts, wife beater that was pink with glitter on it and little white keds. He should have been ashamed of himself.

He'd been working on his English enough that I wouldn't have to be translator. Plus he'd told me he'd watched old workout videos to make sure he'd know what she'd need to work on. I guess he spent a little too much time on the Richard Simmons stuff.

I did my own thing on the weights, I do have to work to keep up the magnificent form. I was about to get on the treadmill when I saw it happening and I ran across the gym.

Stephanie was on her back with one leg in the air, the other on the ground. Hector on his hands and knees between her legs and the one that was in the air was draped over his shoulder.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" I asked Hector in Spanish. I was fuming. No one else was supposed to be between her legs, that was my job.

"Working on her flexibility," he said.

"No. You do it like this." I was on the outside of her body attempting to move her leg closer to her chest. It would do the same for her flexibility, and keep my heart beating.

"She doesn't like it like that," he said with a smile.

"Lester, what's the matter?" she asked.

"He was doing it wrong. You won't get good results his way. It should be done the way I'm doing it," I said with a tight smile.

"It's _so_ much more comfortable when Hector does it. Let him go back to doing it his way. When we do floor exercises, we can do it your way," she said.

"Fine, but if he hurts you …" I left the threat in the air.

"Hector would never hurt me. Would you Hector?" she asked smiling up at Hector.

Damn if Hector didn't have the same look on his face that I usually got when I'd had a successful night at the bar. I knew he was gay, right? I mean he couldn't be bi, could he? Based on that outfit, definitely gay.

"You guys have 20 minutes left and then Steph's got to go on duty," I said to the pair on the floor.

I was definitely going to need to limit her floor work and flexibility workouts. Shit.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Cat is making me do this

Disclaimer: Cat is making me do this. She's got Vince handcrafting Christmas cards and designing special somethings for Valentine's Day unless she sees more…she's a slave driver I tell you.

**But You Already Promised…Please Part 2  
By Lester Santos as told to Alfonsina**

"No more," she groaned. "I can't take anymore. Please?"

"Are you sure about that? It'll get a lot better very soon, I promise," I said. "Just close your eyes and breathe deeply for me."

It was already fucking unbelievable for me. I had Stephanie nearly naked and face down on the massage table in my bedroom. Oh, and she was covered in my favorite oil with just a towel covering her ass. She didn't need to know it was a flavored oil, did she?

"Can't I go to bed soon?" she asked.

"I'll make sure you get into a safe bed, but we've got to get these knots worked out first."

"I didn't know that massage was going to be a part of the program. Not that I don't like it, but you're going kind of deep."

"Deep is my specialty." Yes, deep is most definitely my specialty. Deep, long, strong and oh so relaxing, yeah that's it.

"Can I get a drink of water?"

"You were supposed to be drinking water all day to stay hydrated," I said. If she didn't get water into her system she'd be sore as hell in the morning.

"News to me. Please?"

"Be right back."

I went to the kitchen and got her a cold bottle of water and a straw. I'd relax the touch some and cut back the time. She probably needed to be in a whirlpool after all of this.

I returned to the table and handed her the bottle.

"You'll need at least two more of these before you go to bed," I told her. Lucky bed.

"M'kay."

I only spent another 10 minutes on her before I excused myself and went into the bathroom and began to fill the tub with medium warm water. I knew if it was too hot, it would cause more harm than good.

When I knew the tub was almost full enough, I went back to the bathroom and added bubble stuff to the tub and turned on the jets.

"Sweetie, it's bathtime," I growled into her ear. I'd lost control of my regular voice, growling or whimpering was all that was left. The idea of getting her into my tub was almost more than I could take. I could bear it much more easily if I could've been in the tub bare with her, but I wasn't pushing my luck, not today.

"Bathtime? Bathtime? Do you think I'm five years old, Lester?" asked the muffled voice that was still face down on my massage table.

"No. I think that I paid a couple of grand to have my bathroom retrofit with a whirlpool tub a two years ago and I know for sure your apartment only has a shower. I think you need a little more pampering than that after your first day," I said.

"You know what's in my bathroom?"

"Sugar, all of the apartments are laid out the same. All of the bathrooms are identical. I had to make a deal with Ranger to pay for the remodel myself and know that if and when I ever moved out that the tub was going to stay."

"Well, in that case, I'll just use it this once," she said lifting her head and looking me straight in the eye.

She had a weakness for baths and so do I. Actually it was part of the 'greening of Lester Santos'. I believe in conserving water by drinking wine and sharing my tub time. Tonight she'd have solo time with all the jets, but I'd teach her how to aim them so she became addicted to them.

I gave her some privacy so she could get comfortable.

I called through the door after about ten minutes, "How you doing now, Steph?"

"Mmmm."

"Need to hear more from you than that or I'll have to come in. I'll give you to the count of three," I told the door.

Who the hell was I kidding? I already had the ice pick ready to open the door and just check on her, yeah, that's it. I'm looking after her safety after all.

"What? Fine. I'm fine. You don't need to come in," she said quickly.

"I've got your dessert. You don't want to make a mess in the living room, do you?" I asked. "Oh and another bottle of water."

"What's the trick, Lester?"

"No trick. It's the white chocolate/raspberry cheesecake with the Oreo crust we talked about earlier. I've even got a little raspberry sauce on it for you," I said. I was fighting dirty and I didn't care.

"You can't come in yet, there aren't enough bubbles in the tub to hide everything," she said sounding just a tad, oh I don't know, panicked.

"Not a problem. I don't mind if you don't."

"Lester, from what I've been told you've never minded a thing one day in your whole life."

True.

"I'm adding more water and bubble stuff now. Please wait."

Fine. I've waited close to 24 hours to see her in the tub, what's another five minutes going to hurt me? A lot, actually. I'd probably have to use her shower and have a cold one before she even got out of the tub.

"It's just the right temp, Steph. You don't want me to eat this by myself do you?"

"No. You can't. You wouldn't. You won't. Will you?" she begged.

I love it when they beg.

"You have to open the door to find out," I said. I was going to play this for all it was worth.

"You know I can't open the door right now."

"A closed door means no cheesecake."

"Shit."

At least she didn't say 'fuck' I probably would've pushed the door open.

"Can't you open it from there? I didn't lock the door," she said.

Smart girl. Why couldn't they all be like this?

"Ready?"

"Um, yeah. Go on and open the door, Les," she said quietly.

I sat on the edge of the tub, unfortunately she had enough bubbles in the tub it could've been an old Doris Day movie.

"Les?"

"Yeah, Steph? Something wrong?"

"Not really, I was just wondering if you had a fork I could use for the cheesecake?"

"Nope. We never negotiated the fork. We negotiated something sweet and tasty."

"In the living room."

"Making an exception this time. Don't want to mess the chest in the living room," I said with a grin.

"Spoon?"

"No spoon."

"How do you expect me to eat it?" she blew out.

"Not a problem," I said as I pinched a little of the good stuff between my fingers. "Now open wide and don't forget to clean the utensils between bites."

She looked at me quizzically and said, "Fine. We're doing everything else your way."

Damn straight.

By the time she got to the third bite, I was unable to move most of my lower body. Her eyes glazed over from the sugar, mine from the sensation of her lips and tongue on my fingers, saying nothing about the moaning.

I was up to the challenge and decided to be a man and let her have the other eight bites of cheesecake; even if it killed me.

It only took one day and she was literally eating out of my hand. I wonder how much better tomorrow will be?


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: It is scary when your muse and characters take on a life of their own…I own nothing and am responsible for none of this.

**Ain't Nothing Moderate About Me, Babe  
By Lester Santos as told to Alfonsina**

"Son of a bitch!" she screamed at me.

"What? You knew the rules fair and square when we started this thing," I said calmly so everyone in the gym could hear me.

"You, Lester G. Santos, are an asshole. A major pain…" she was going to go further but I got her to quiet down.

"You remember the rules?"

She nodded and sucked in a deep breath.

"Then you know this is for your own good."

"Bastard."

"Such language. I know it's kind of early…"

"Kind of early? I just got to bed four hours ago. You are fucking insane and I should stop this program right now."

"But back when I was in boot camp …"

"This ain't boot camp and I'm not an 18 year old recruit!"

No she wasn't, not by any measure, it she was I'd be a drill instructor right now.

"What's the matter, now?" I asked. I'd been trying to be accommodating of her needs and desires.

"You have me living in Granola Twig and Berry Hell, minus the berries!! This morning you told me that it would just be time on the treadmill and then you have the nerve stick an EMPTY TastyKake box on a string over my head to entice me. When I'm concentrating on nothing but what's inside the box, you manipulate the program on the stupid machine. I'm practically running," no she wasn't it was a brisk walk, "after a stupid box thinking all this time that I was going to get the contents."

"But you did get the contents."

"Jerk. We both knew that I thought there was cream filled goodness in there, but NO you replaced it with a Kashi Bar. I don't like them. If you're gonna have me eat granola, let it be Quaker Granola Bars."

"But those are mostly sugar," I said.

"I LIKE SUGAR!" she was screaming and the guys were all looking at us.

"You are being just a teenie bit irrational, Steph. Let's talk …"

"FEED ME. I'm starving here," she screeched.

She was beginning to lose her grip. Fuck.

"Steph, you seem a little rattled," Tank said. Tank was the only one who was brave enough to come over and check on Steph's tantrum.

"He's trying to starve me to death, Tank. He doesn't understand that I have needs."

Tank looked at her and then at me shaking his head.

"Not those kinds of needs. Well, actually I do have those sorts of needs, but I'm talking about FOOD. Real food. None of this reduced calorie, low fat, ZERO flavor crap he's trying to convince me is good for me. I'm tired of his 'all things in moderation crap'."

"Told you 500 calories per day wouldn't work and that 800 wouldn't be much better," Tank said to me.

I sighed. I hate it when he's right, he can be really hard to live with when he's right. She hadn't even been at this 48 hours and she was already going to break.

Just then the Richard Simmons look alike came bounding into the gym. Just what I needed. Hector was in the same type outfit as yesterday: day-glow orange wife beater, neon green short shorts, white Keds, but this time he'd added a turquoise head band and purple ankle warmers. Good thing Ranger is in the wind or he'd put someone in the ground for that outfit. He almost looked like he was wearing a very vivid version of the gay pride flag.

Hector shoved both Tank and me out of his way and took Stephanie, who was crying now, into his arms. He shushed her to the best of his ability and finally got her to look at him.

"Better?"

"Yes."

"Want real food now?" he asked her.

Who the hell was he raining on my parade?

She nodded and smiled. He took her hand and walked her out of the gym leaving both my jaw and Tank's on the floor.

"Nothing could happen to her alone with him, right?" I asked Tank.

"Right."

Neither of us believed it. I bolted to the phone and dialed the control room.

"Control."

"Zip, it's Les. Where did Hector take Stephanie? Did they leave the building? Can you tell me what floor she's on?"

"Stalker?"

"No. I just need to know where she is."

"Let's see. Looks like someone in a Halloween costume has her on the fourth floor. Opening Hector's apartment. Christ. It is Hector. What's he doing dressed like that?"

"Long story. Thanks man."

I bolted up the stairs two at a time. I could hear the voices but couldn't tell what they were saying. I waited for a lifetime, probably five seconds, and then I heard what made me want to break down the door.

"Oh my God, Hector." Pause. "I never knew it could be this good." Pause. "Why didn't you tell me you were _so_ good at this?" Pause. "We can't tell anyone though, can we?"

That was when the moaning started. It wasn't just a "this is the best cheesecake I've ever eaten" moan. It wasn't even a "just like that, do it again" moan. This was a full on When Harry Met Sally Moan, from the scene in the diner. It was the kind of moaning that would make men get hard just listening to it; some men might even cum as a result of that sound. I couldn't stand it, I was going to die, probably of blue balls.

I pounded on the door.

"Open," I yelled in Spanish.

"No. She agreed to be with me," Hector responded in Spanish.

"Leave Lester. Hector and I are just fine."

"Let me in or I'll use Tank's pass key," I said. I didn't have it but they didn't need to know that.

Hector opened the door looking more angry than I'd ever seen him, and that's really saying something. He was a small man with a short fuse.

Stephanie was sitting in front of a large plate of food looking like it was sent directly from heaven just for her. Hector joined her at the table and took a sip of coffee. She then did something totally unconscionable, she put her hand on his cheek and smiled at him before she took another forkful of food from her plate. That's when the moaning started again.

"What are you feeding her?" I asked Hector.

"Huevos Rancheros," he said with a smile, "and some melon. I'm only using the egg whites and tofu cheese, the rest is real food."

Why hadn't I thought of that? I didn't realize that food other than pastry meant quite that much to her.

I wasn't paying attention to what Hector was trying to say because Steph kept drowning him out.

"She has a shift in the control room in two hours, make sure she's there," I said as I left the room.

I was hearing my all time favorite sound and it was being made over a plate of eggs. My life was crumbling around me, I was never going to be the same.

I headed to the door when Hector said to me, "I'm doing her stretching exercises in here now, too many people watch her in the gym. She's shy."

Nothing in my experience with Stephanie Plum indicated she was shy.

"Just get her to her shift on time."

Stephanie waved her fork at me as I left I could still hear her outside the door. I was going to be sick.


	7. Chapter 7

It is scary when your muse and characters take on a life of their own…I own nothing and am responsible for none of this…

A/N: It is scary when your muse and characters take on a life of their own…

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am responsible for none of this….I own nothing and no one in these stories, but I'm having a good time.

**Portion control is supposed to be a good thing, right?  
By Lester Santos as told to Alfonsina**

Women on diets are like having small children. You have to watch them constantly, feed them regularly and never leave them alone. These reasons are probably why I've never really wanted to be a daddy.

Two hours after her shift began, I was going to deliver Stephanie her first little 'snack' of the day. It was just some raw veggies and reduced calorie dip, but it was something was wrong. She wasn't at her desk, she wasn't anywhere on the floor. That's when I found her in a corner speaking in hushed tones with Junior.

"I can't do it, I'll lose my job," he said.

"You can do anything you want. It's just between us and I know _I _won't tell," she said as she was digging through the front of her shirt and pulled out a twenty dollar bill from her bra. I thought I'd liberated her from all of her cash, credit/debit cards and checkbook. It never occurred to me that she'd stash money in her bra, but it was going to be a fun place to check from here on out.

"Sorry, Steph, I like you but you aren't worth it. Santos would kill me," he said. Since he was facing the wall I knew he was telling her the truth, it was evident she hadn't seen me yet.

"Just one small, little, tiny box. And you can give me one cellophaned package from it every day, right? And you can keep the change, in case I need another fix. You could do that, right?"

"Steph, I don't think it would be right?"

Damn straight it wouldn't be right.

I didn't bother to go for the element of surprise. I tapped Junior on the shoulder, he moved to the side. I stood square in front of a stunned Stephanie. Before she had a chance to make so much as a squeak, I got her into the fireman's carry over my shoulder and escorted her off the floor.

I called over my shoulder, "Tank, she's off the rest of the day. I'll check in later."

She started to wriggle and I had to keep her still. My body could only take so much and it had had it. I did the only reasonable thing, I slapped her on the ass, not hard enough to sting and not very well because of the angle, but she quit moving.

I walked to the elevator and pushed the call button. When it finally arrived Caesar and Slick were getting off. "Santos."

"Gentlemen. Have a safe shift."

I exited the elevator and carried her to my apartment, opened the door and slid Stephanie off my shoulder.

"I trusted you. I never thought I'd be disappointed in you. You said you wanted this," I said when her feet finally touched the ground.

"The lack of sugar is going to kill me, Lester."

"No, it won't. You might have to detox for a couple of days, but you won't die."

"It's not dying I'm afraid of," she whispered.

"What is?" Now I'm concerned. She'd not afraid of death, what could it be, the fear of public speaking?

"Without sugar, I lose control over my hormones. If I go long enough without, I'm afraid I'll break the next man who comes close to me," she said in hushed tones.

"Break them how, exactly?" I asked. I hoped I knew the right answer, but was unsure.

"Sexually?" she squeaked.

God was back from his Mexican vacation! YES!!

"You get that pent up?"

"Let's say without sugar, the licking and sucking I did on your fingers was tame and would have been just the beginning."

Hell yeah.

"See I can only go for so long without touching or being touched unless there is an adequate supply of sugar."

"You mean you have control if you have a couple of Twinkies?

"Sort of. They take the edge off. If I go too long between fixes, my eyes glaze over and there is almost nothing to stop me from attacking the next available, able bodied man."

"I could help you with that. I'd be more than willing to help you while you detox."

Her eyes glazed over and she grabbed me by the shirt, "You wouldn't just say that to a desperate woman, would you? I mean you aren't making promises you aren't planning to keep."

"Baby, I would keep my promise to you over and over and over again, if you let me."

Now, normally I'm the aggressor in these things. I mean I'm usually more assertive than the women I'm with. This, however, was a nice change for me. I was willing to ride this train to the end of the line.

She invaded _my personal space_. Yep, mine. The lip lock she laid on me was a force of nature all on its own. I had a feeling she could kiss well, but this was amazing and inspiring on a lot of levels.

"These are just the warm up exercises, Lester. If you don't think you can hang, you had best get me some Ding Dongs," she breathed into my ear as she ripped the buttons off my shirt and started to fumble for my zipper.

"Oh, I can hang. Believe me, baby doll, I can hang," I breathed into her ear. I began to march her backwards into the bedroom untucking her shirt and fumbling with her zipper.

"Show me," she said as she yanked down my pants. "Prove to me that you can be my personal Sugar Daddy."

Oh God.

xx

By the time _she_ was done having her wicked way with me, four times, I was ready for a nap. She looked like she was ready to climb Mt. Everest.

"Steph?"

"Yeah, Lester?" she asked with a gleam in her eye.

"That would be, what, the equivalent of a whole day without sugar?"

"Sorry."

"More than that?"

"No, that would be enough to keep me satisfied for the morning. The afternoon is when my cravings kick into high gear."

"Has no one ever taught you about portion control or moderation?"

"I told you that I wasn't a very moderate type of girl, but I still need to lose weight. And you know how I hate to exercise."

"I think you like my favorite form of exercise. But how about we start with no sugar in the morning and we can taper off the sugar in the afternoon. I think I know where there's a box of Little Debbie's in Tank's office."

f


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